Fairy Play
by allissrose
Summary: How Juvia meets her new family, one Fairy at a time.
1. Kidnapping

_**A/N: First fanfiction! So excited.**_

* * *

The first Fairy she meets is a girl, pretty, all coffee-colored eyes and sweet smiles and bright, glowing keys.

It's the keys themselves that capture Juvia's attention, the way they glint golden against the plain brown of the wallet they are tucked into. That is the token she is directed to look for, and she knows who this girl is even before she looks up. A flash of sunny yellow hair is all she needs to advance.

She tilts her umbrella to the right and begins to walk.

The target is surprisingly young, maybe no older than Juvia herself. She's dressed in commoner's clothes (a rather obvious disguise) and holding a bagful of groceries, threatening to spill out of her arms at any moment. She looks up in wonderment as the rain _pitter-patters_ over her sunny, yellow hair, spoiling her flour and milk, seeping into the leather of her wallet to tarnish those pretty keys, and voices a thought aloud, "Where did this rain come from?"

Answer: it comes from _Juvia._

Juvia is the rain woman. It's always with her. And what sort of woman is this new acquaintance, pray tell?

The target answers, nervously, "Oh, um….I'm just the normal kind."

Is that so? Juvia is pleased to meet this normal kind of woman, but if this normal kind of woman will excuse Juvia, she must be going. Goodbye.

"Well, take the rain with you!" The target lifts one hand uncertainly, as if wondering whether or not to wave.

Juvia gusts past her, like wind sleeting the raindrops away from their path.

 _"Attendez, Mademoiselle!"_

She halts.

The soft mud underfoot roils, and from a spiral of sediment emerges _Monsieur,_ a short, springy little man with a monocle and a penchant for torture. He's amusing, she supposes, the way he _boing-boings_ with every step, like an animate pogo stick, as if afraid to stay on the earth for too long because it might suck him back under.

Yes, Monsieur?

" _Non non non, mademoiselle,_ you must not keep on your way! This is the one we have been looking for, _n'cest pas?_ This is our _cible!"_

Is it? So she _is_ the one. Very well.

"That means target," says the target.

 _Monsieur_ introduces the pair of them to their target, merely out of politeness.

The blonde girl looks angry, eyebrows drawn down tight over eyes the color of mud, _whirlpools_ of it — as if she thinks she can trap _Monsieur_ with his own element. Bitterly she hurls pebbles of insults at them, calling them _monsters_ and _traitors_ and all other kinds of people who would dare hurt her precious friends. The names glance off of them, barely denting their hide; she's not telling them anything they don't already know.

Juvia tilts her head towards the rain, listening, as the pressure of the water builds inside her, she bides her time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

 _Drip drip drop._

It's time now.

She coaxes the rain out of her body and plays with it, molding it into different shapes until she finds the one she likes. It's a deceptively pretty trap — a big dome of of water, imbued with oxygen — so she releases it and it flies, blue and bright, to encompass the target in a gentle embrace.

It is all over now. _Monsieur_ applauds Juvia on her job. Quick, clean, very neatly done. It is a talent all of Phantom Lord envies: the precision with which she sins.

As she walks away, bubble of water containing the target floating behind her, Juvia feels a flash of pity for the keys left behind in the soil, poor, abandoned things. The clink of rain against the metal adds an accent to the song the world always plays for her — the _drip-drip_ of rain, the _splish-splash_ of her footsteps, the low, steady hum of big, fat clouds pressing themselves into the sky to screen her from the sunshine.

It's funny how the world has yet to realize she _hates this song._ It's an orchestra of tears.

Lucy Heartfilia cries within her prison, and Juvia sighs, allowing the girl's sobs to add an interweaving melody to her music.


	2. I Think I'm in Love

— _I think I'm in love, and I think he might break me—_

The second Fairy she meets is staring at her.

Hard.

And she stands her ground and stares levelly back.

Even through the sideways-slashing rain, Juvia can see him clearly — his eyes are dark and stormy and _painfully_ intense, matching spiky ash-colored hair, and setting off features so straight and neat it's as if someone has carved him...or stitched him. _She_ would like to stitch him in a doll. River stones for the eyes and charcoal rubbed on his hair, maybe a smile on his face, if she was caught in one of her happy spells with needle and thread. She's not sure if she knows how to sew smiles —

 _But he's not a doll, he's a person; he's an enemy, and Phantom requires Juvia to cut him down._

Enemies. Phantom. Fairies. _Right._

* * *

She thinks she might be in love.

Juvia changes her mind; he's not a doll anymore, he's a prince. _Her_ prince. Except that there's still a part of her that remembers that he's an _enemy_ and she's getting all messed up in the head right now and... _Good lord, he is so handsome..._ wait, no, enemy, Juvia, enemy! Fairies are _bad,_ remember? Just get over there and actually attack him, you thrice-cursed rain child...

WATER LOCK!

It's the same pretty, blue bubble spell she used to trap the target, discluding the oxygen because in her panicked, hazy state of mind Juvia has the notion that if she manages to make _him_ choke, it will effectively choke the love out of _her._ Then she sees him wince in pain and something inside her starts aching — is there a single person she can manage not to hurt?

When her globe of water fractures into shards of clear, sharp ice, she's relieved. Maybe he is someone strong enough to fight off the pain she inflicts.

From there things escalate too quickly.

The wind picks up, catching _her prince's shirt_ on it's wings and flying away with it, so it's only natural that Juvia starts spinningspinning _spinning_ around in circles with her hands pressed against her flushed cheeks, and alternating between looking at his _bare muscular chest_ and the rainy sky and back at his bare. Muscular. _Chest._

And then he attacks her. Naturally as breathing, her body liquefies and she's a puddle on the ground _,_ but the look on his face, the _shock,_ it hurts so much more than any lance.

* * *

He will never belong to her.

This knowledge crashes down on her with the weight of a grand piano — _he's claimed._ A prince complete with a lady by his side; _that girl_ , she remembers, _that lovely, golden girl, a runaway princess, the one who plays with the pretty keys._

Juvia can't stop crying. And then she can't stop screaming. Her prince's eyes stretch wide, because what the hell _happened_ to her?

"Juvia is through with love, and she is through with _you!"_

The sound of her name, _Gloomy Juvia,_ leaving his lips is transformatory in the most wondrous way, because suddenly his handsome, flawlessly stitched face looks identical to Bora's. And Totumaru's. And all the other men who have stilled the rushing water inside her, only to turn it toxic and spit it back in her face.

Like an avenging angel, she vows to go back and _destroy them all._

* * *

She's falling.

The ground rushes up to meet her, and all she can think is, _Juvia should have known this is how she would go._ _Hitting the ground and disappearing into nothing, just like a raindrop._

Death is no stranger to her. It follows her wake like the rain, steals from her — Juvia shudders as she remembers all the times she has woken up from a stupor to find her hands coated in another wizard's blood, an _innocent,_ sometimes a _child_ — and she's left cold with the sense that something else has taken over her body and used her as a tool. The killing, she's _good_ at it. It's _easy_.

Like all of the other victims who dared to defy the Phantoms, the rain will be the last thing she sees before she's gone.

She whispers a quick goodbye to her one true friend, another to her one true love, and then she thinks she's ready now. Her eyes slip shut.

 _If there is another world after this one, then where will Juvia go?_

* * *

When Juvia's eyes open, she's right back on the roof.

Huh.

At first she decides she is a ghost, forever condemned to haunt the place of her death, but...she feels _warmth._ Fingers wrapped around her wrist, and someone's asking, "Hey, are you feeling better now? Cooled off?"

Her prince is smiling at her.

* * *

"You've seriously never seen a blue sky before?"

"Well—no. Juvia has never..." She gulps and trails off. No words can encompass how the sight of a cloudless, _rainless_ sky makes her tremble, or how thankful she is that _he_ is the first person she sees lit up by sunlight, or that she silently, grudgingly, forgives him for his slight towards her and any other pain he caused.

"Really? Huh. It's pretty, don't you think?" he asks.

Juvia nods.

— _I think I'm in love, and I think he just saved me_ —

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well, this turned out...different than expected.**_


	3. Teach Me To Smile

The third Fairy she meets must have some kind of mental disorder.

Honestly. There is no other explanation as to why Natsu Dragneel is _incapable_ of remembering her name. She is willing to forgive the initial mistakes because they have only just been introduced, her name _is_ pretty unusual, and his focus is probably on the high-stakes situation they are in.

But twenty-three _Gooby's, Booby's,_ and _Nooby's_ later, her patience is dropping to dangerously low levels.

Despite these minor grievances, Juvia actually quite likes Natsu Dragneel — he reminds her of Gajeel, if Gajeel had pink hair, a severe case of ADHD and the unquenchable thirst to get beaten up by opponents ten times stronger than him.

Okay, so he's not that much like _Gajeel,_ but it's the sentiment that counts, right?

It's the smiles that really confound her. Barely a moment passes without a flash of his canines. So Juvia watches him carefully, _studiously,_ because she might as well face it: she's a mess of a girl, a pile of ashy ruins and broken glass and bitter memories; but somehow he's _not,_ and he can laugh and smile like he just _knows_ how to be happy on instinct, like it's a quality so intrinsically woven into his nature you can't _not_ associate joy with Natsu. And she wants to learn, too.

The first thing he does is demand to fight her.

Juvia politely declines, as they are on a godforsaken island in an evil tower surrounded by potential enemies—but she leans over and whispers as soft, "Later," in his ear. He flashes that grin again with his pointy teeth—

(Why are his teeth so _pointy?_ This has always puzzled her.

Ever the faithful best friend, she smugly notes that his teeth are not as pointy as _her_ Dragonslayer's.)

—and _phantoms and ghosts_ , she almost, _almost_ finds herself smiling back.

Almost.

Looking at him bickering with Gray, Juvia's mind drifts, just like it always does nowadays, to Gajeel. _Oh, Gajeel._ Foul-mouthed, grumpy ironhead that he is, she misses the big dolt. About a month has past since she last saw him, and the frustration of not knowing how he is gnaws at her. But he needs some time alone, anyways. They both have stuff to work through, and he made it crystal clear that he didn't want to share his struggle with her.

It's okay. He's scared. They are alone, guildless, pitted against a world that loathes them. She understands.

She made him a promise four weeks ago: "When Juvia comes back, she will have found a new guild, do you understand? She will pick a good one, Gajeel-kun, and Gajeel-kun can join with Juvia. We can be... _happy_ this time around. Juvia knows that all guilds cannot be like Phantom."

He'd just stared at her, mouth full of iron scraps.

"Juvia would appreciate some company on the road. Will you come with her?"

His answer was a door slammed sharply on her face.

She gets it.

"What was the name of your Fire Dragon?"

Natsu, who had been slumped and clutching his belly just a few seconds before, shoots up straight and gives her a wide-eyed look. "My dragon? Igneel. His name's Igneel. Why?"

"Oh, um...it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"I'm gonna find him one day," Natsu says automatically, as if by rote.

She nods as if this is a given. "Juvia knows you will."

"Is this about that Gajeel guy's dragon? Metal Cuckoo or something?"

Juvia can't help but smile at that; she can only imagine Gajeel's reaction if he found out his precious Iron Dragon is being was being referred to as a _Metal Cuckoo_. "Metallicana. And perhaps you could say that, yes. Juvia is...inquiring for a friend."

Natsu puts down his torch. There is a fierce, focused look on his face that surprises her, because he doesn't look like someone who could concentrate on something so intensely. "Did Gajeel find something about the dragons? _Anything?"_

Regretfully, she shakes her head. He sags a little, just barely, but she catches it with a practiced eye. If Juvia understands anything, it's disappointment.

Natsu takes a huge bite of his fire and gnaws on it like a hungry dog.

"After the dragons disappeared—"

"—but they're coming back," he insists.

"While you wait for him to come back, does Fairy Tail help with the loneliness?"

As if by some sort of magic his grin is back, and he says, "Heck yes. They're like my family now. Even idiots like Frosty and Elfman."

Silence settles over the two. This Tower of Heaven atrocity that Jellal built, it seems suited for silence.

Juvia's head is sent spinning at that word: _family._ The idea of family is a foreign one to her — she thinks it has something to do with joy, or acceptance, or all of those other beautiful, empty words that she knows the meaning of, but she doesn't know what they really _mean._ Gajeel always rolled his eyes at the way the Fairies repeated those family-nakama speeches like a broken record, and now she wonders if that's because hearing someone say it — _family_ — reminded him too much of the one he lost, or if it _hurt_ him so badly he waged war on a guild he hated for having something he never could. _Family_ hurts her, too, when she thinks about it. So when she was at Phantom Lord, she just...didn't think about it. Didn't think about anything.

She's thinking about it now. Natsu knows she has to be.

"Join my guild," he says suddenly.

Juvia blinks.

"Come on, Gooby, you just gotta! I'm tellin' ya, Fairy Tail is number one! Sure, we're weird, but you're really weird, too, (no offense) so you'll fit right in!"

"Juvia was—"

"Seriously, if you got any complaints against us, I'm gonna hear 'em," he demands. "I figured after the way those Phantom jerks used you, you kinda need a guild like ours. We don't do that kind of crap in Fairy Tail, all right?'"

"Phantom Lord... _used_ Juvia?" she repeats faintly.

"'Course they did. Like I said, jerks. Any group of wizards who would make their own friends do that kind of stuff don't deserve to call themselves a guild," he snarls.

She'd never thought of it as being...used. In the end, it is _her_ magic that ends their life, and it is always _her_ rain that is mixed with their blood, while the Master hovers behind the scenes, totally untouchable while being protected by his army of pawns, _laughing_ at the bloodshed and clapping his hands and sending them on another mission, and then another...

 _He was using Juvia all this time,_ she realizes. _Wielding her like a sword. Staining her. Ruining her, and she let him._

How did this Salamander know?

"Juvia is unsure if Fairy Tail would want to accept her," she says uncertainly, biting her lip. "You don't understand, Natsu, after the disbanding of Phantom Lord, all of it's wizards were completely shunned. Word has spread from tip to tail of her guild's disgrace, and now all the doors are closed for Juvia. Phantom's name...it is uttered as only a _curse,_ a bitter one, and you haven't seen the look on a guild master's face, the way they _sneer_ at ex-Phantom mages seeking work... Juvia will not — _cannot_ — bring the same shame to Gray-sama's guild."

He shrugs like she's being stupid. "Look, Gooby—"

"It's _Juvia."_

"Whatever. Look, shame is no big deal. Just think about it. Our master's a dwarf, we destroy shit every five minutes, our strongest wizard (besides me, I can kick Gildart's ass _anytime_ I want) can't keep it in his pants, we got a creepy perverted stripping snowcone on our team —"

"—Gray-sama is perfect!" Juvia objects.

"—and my best friend's a flying cat," he finishes. "Point is, we're _crazy._ We make more mistakes than probably any other guild in the country, and a couple bad moves don't make you a bad person, y'know? I ain't sayin' that they're all gonna love you at once, but you seem pretty damn serious about it, and our guild is all about second chances."

 _Second chances._

Juvia likes the sound of that.

She scrawls a quick note, corks it in a bottle and tosses it into the water, trusting the sea to deliver it — a message to Gajeel, telling him she found them a new home.

* * *

 **A/N: Wouldn't Natsu and Juvia just be total bros? I mean, really?**


	4. Scary

The fourth Fairy she meets is SCARY.

SCARY.

REALLY, REALLY SCARY.

Her name is Erza Scarlet, and she is perhaps one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful wizards Juvia has ever encountered.

 _Initiate love rival mode in 5—4—3—2…._

Scratch that.

If the loses Gray to Erza, she'll shut up and take it because frankly, the redhead freaks the living shit out of her.

That's really all she has to say on the matter.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I know it's way too short, but I got a plan here. Juvia doesn't really have a 'deep meaningful talk' with Erza until later. And let's be honest, most people's first impression of Erza is "this woman is going to kill me." And then they find out she's awesome...later.**_


	5. Second Chances

The fifth Fairy is nothing like she thought he would be.

Honestly, Juvia doesn't know what to expect when imagining Fairy Tail's resident guild master. Jose Porla was the most powerful wizard she'd met, and yet she'd heard that Master Makarov defeated him with a single spell. She pictures someone tall and brawny, probably very old, with a long, white beard like Org from the Magic Council. In a fanciful mood, she wonders if his eyes shine like ancient stars, or if he speaks with the wisdom of a thousand ages. That's what it means to be a Wizard Saint, right? Somewhere in a secret part of her heart, she holds close the dream of becoming one herself one day. It's silly, but still—

Then she sees him.

And he's _tiny_.

And he's dressed like a circus clown in garish orange and blue.

And he's smoking a hookah bigger than his own face.

Juvia realizes how hopelessly she had been romanticizing the situation.

But behind two bushy, white brows, his dark eyes shine like ancient stars.

They sit down and exchange awkward introductions. Juvia's nervous, she realizes. She's afraid to face this man—the father of the children she hurt so badly. Even if he barely comes up to her waist, he _commands_ respect from her. He's not the bright, cheery man she's heard about; the Master's face remains grave, and he studies her like she's a complication he did not anticipate.

"Miss Juvia Lockser of Phantom Lord, what brings you here?" he asks, not unkindly.

No words come forth right away; what on earthland is she doing here? The Master's dark, knowing eyes throw her off, and she can't remember the speech she so carefully rehearsed.

What comes out of her mouth is no eloquent speech. " _JuviawantstobeaFairy!_ "

Makarov's eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me, what was that?"

"Juvia said," she repeats with a forced calm, "Juvia said that she would like to...join Fairy Tail, sir. Since Phantom Lord disbanded she's been trying guild after guild and no one wants to take Juvia—which of course she completely understands, Phantom done some _unforgivable_ things, Juvia have so much to atone for—please don't feel like you _have_ to say yes, sir—"

"Juvia, child, take a breath."

She really does try, but it seems a total waste of energy. Coiled up tighter than a spring, she stares fixedly at the master's face, muscles bunching up and cramping. He sighs.

"Why do you want to join Fairy Tail?"

Once again the question takes her aback. _Why?_ It's something about money, or Gajeel, or being close to Gray— _something._ She's not sure which answer to offer. "Well, Juvia guesses it's because she—"

"That's not why," he interrupts. "Tell me the truth."

"Juvia doesn't—"

"Know? Yes, you do, but you won't say it. Never mind that; shall I tell you the truth?"

She nods.

"I've done research on the members of Phantom Lord," he begins. Those dark, dark eyes bore into hers. "Out of the Element Four, you especially caught my eye, Juvia Lockser. Your innate ability to control the rain is unheard of, but of course you have realized that. You possess intellectual acuity and extraordinary control over your element. To accomplish this so early in your life is quite impressive."

She neither denies nor confirms it.

"But research did not tell me all I know. You have a look in your eyes that I do not often see, child, not in this guild. _Hopelessness_. You feel adrift without Phantom Lord, and you want a purpose again, don't you? Something to make life have meaning." His lips curl into a smile, and he gestures for her to speak.

She doesn't.

Makarov Dryar evidently understands.

"How old were you when you joined Phantom Lord, child?"

"Thirteen," she replies.

"And how old are you now?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"Seventeen," he sighs. "So young— _too_ young. Tell me, Juvia, if you were the master of Fairy Tail, would you allow one such as yourself to join your guild's ranks?"

Juvia knows that she's supposed to answer no, because she knows she's done _terrible_ things, that there is blood glowing red on her white hands, and he can _see_ it, he _knows;_ that this wrinkly old man is passing judgement on the sentence for her crimes, crimes she ought to plead guilty for— _but Juvia is no liar,_ she decides grimly, _and she refuses to give him the answer she thinks he wants to hear._

Chin held high, she says, defiantly, " _Yes_ , sir. Juvia _would_."

The master looks unsurprised. "Why?"

This time, the answer that so evaded her slips off her tongue as naturally as a song. "Because," she says, remembering Natsu, "your guild is all about second chances. And that's why Juvia is here. She—no. _I'm_ lost, I'm scared, and I need a second chance."

"Yes." He settles back in his seat, satisfied. "Yes, indeed you do, child."

He smiles then, brightly, and Juvia thinks that back in the day he must have been very handsome. "Someone with your intelligence does not need to be told that while joining will help you, it cannot fix you."

She shrugs. "Oh, that's okay. Honestly, at this point nothing can really fix Juvia."

"That's not true," Makarov argues. "Don't believe you're broken, because you're _not_. Hurt, yes, I'll be the first to admit. Badly hurt. Tired, battered, bleeding around the edges—but not _broken_ , not yet. It will take more than that do break you." His expression softens. "You've been through a lot, Juvia. If you want some advice, take a long, relaxing job. Have a little fun. _Heal_. Fairy Tail will help you, but time is key, time and work; do you understand?"

"Yes," she says.

"Spells can work many miracles, sweet girl, but the only magic that can mend a broken heart is patience and determination. Will you find the resolve to wait?"

Juvia looks him dead in the eyes without flinching. "Master, don't you see?"

(Clouds crowd over the sun outside.)

"Juvia will never believe in miracles."

The master nods gravely. "We will teach you to believe, Juvia. I'm going to tell you now that though the path you now walk is one of light, it is no easier than following the darkness. Every day you will be tested, and it is paramount that you _do not fail_. It will hurt, and you will want to _die_ , but we will be with you every step of the way—heed me, child, for you are _strong_. Fight through your pain and you will survive. I will not let you give up."

The water mage is wracked with _hiccups_ , of all things, and the sound of the small coughs of air is testimony of what a pathetic specimen of a human being Juvia Lockser is—

(Hic—)

She reeks of rain. More than anything, she only wants to laugh again, for it's been far too long.

Makarov cocks his head to one side, attentive, listening. "Really?" he says. "That's what you want? Little rain girl, that I can give you. Laugh with me, Juvia."

Respectfully, she ducks her head and tells him the truth—she can't laugh here, not now, because there is someone she needs to repay, and another someone she needs to thank, and one more she needs to bring home. There are two places she must go and and friends she must make. She tells him all.

Then tears start falling, because though she may have forgotten the taste of happiness, Juvia has never, never forgotten how to cry.

"Juvia is so scared," she whimpers. "She's never belonged anywhere. No one has ever wanted her."

"Of all the ridiculous things in this world. You're a lovely young girl, and a rare specimen of a wizard. You have the Fairy Tail spirit in you, my dear. Don't be afraid."

Tearfully, she nods. _Don't be afraid, and they'll be afraid of you_ _._ Someone else had whispered that in her ear the morning before the Phantom War began, someone smelling of cold metal and oil, sweat and soft leather, someone she needs to tend to.

"Excuse me, sir—"

"Gramps," he corrects.

Her expression brightens. "Gramps, is it all right if Juvia asks you for a favor?"

"Of course. What is it you need?"

She proceeds to explain the paradox that is Black Steel Gajeel. His smile drops immediately.

Juvia had figured that would be his first reaction.

"He told Juvia he was doing okay, sir, but he's living in a scrap yard, surviving on metal, and doesn't have a coin to his name. Juvia knows that he has done some awful things, but a person is more than their actions, right? There's more to Gajeel than that. He's...not _kind,_ but...he's never let Juvia down. And he can sing and play guitar! Truthfully, Gajeel is the _only_ person Juvia can depend on right now, and she made a promise to him to find a new home for _both_ of us. If that can't be Fairy Tail, then…" She swallows hard. "Then Juvia...will just have to go somewhere else."

Makarov is quiet, apparently in deep thought. Finally he asks, "Do you believe that this man would ever cause harm to my children again?"

"No. The disbanding of Phantom changed him somehow. He's not the same man he used to be— _quieter_ now, or at least Juvia thinks so. He doesn't take pleasure in the pain of others like he used to. It's not like he sings odes to the glory of mankind, but...you have to understand, sir, he was raised by a dragon. The first people he met after Metalicana left him were a pair of rogue dark mages on the run from the government. After that he was kind of bounced around until Phantom got its hands on his power, and now...now he knows who he wants to be, Juvia is _sure_ , but just like her he always ends up getting it wrong, and change is difficult when there is no one to be better for—does that make any sense?"

"Yes," he says heavily. "Yes, unfortunately, it makes all too much sense. This boy, is he your friend?"

"Juvia's only."

"Does he care about you enough to protect something that makes you happy?"

"Yes." She speaks without a trace of hesitation.

Makarov mutters a little and nods to himself, resigned. "Very well, then. I will go fetch him for you. But he is your responsibility, child, and any harm he inflicts on the guild will reflect on you as well. I...certainly hope it is worth the risk to you."

Juvia let's out a _squeal_ , she's so excited.

"He's in the basement of a junkyard off of Clover Court. Oh, thank you, sir, thank you so much! Juvia will do everything she can to make it up to you, she promises! Paperwork, cleaning, laundry—she's a great cook, and would be happy to donate all the money she gets from her jobs to the guild's coffers if you'd like!"

The master chuckles and ruffles her hair. "That's very sweet of you, child, but it's not necessary. Now what are you still doing in here with an old coot like me? Slap a smile on that pretty face and go on and get your stamp. See Mirajane — they'll point her out to you, she's probably behind the bar — and she can get your paperwork in order."

"Thank you so much," she repeats.

She will thank this man with her last dying breath.

 _Someone to pay back, someone to bring home, two places to go, friends to make._

Somehow, Juvia knows.

In Fairy Tail—her new home—she'll accomplish them all.

And after that, she will never stop laughing.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Meh. Writing Master Makarov is hard. I had to go back and switch all of Juvia's dialogue to third person (because I forgot she spoke like that) so if I missed anything, let me know.**_

 _ **Who does Juvia need to bring home? (Hint: it's actually not Gajeel. Remember a certain half-dead guy who at this point in the story is floating around in a river of Ether nano? Yeah...that would be him. I have this complicated history plotted out for them, but that's probably going to be a whole other story.)**_

 ** _As always, reviews are love :)_**


	6. Didja Miss Me?

_**Man, I love the Gajeel and Juvia friendship. They're just...so...*sigh.*...**_

* * *

The sixth Fairy she meets looks like he wants to punch a hole in everyone he sees.

Gajeel Redfox stands in front of the bar, as stiff as a mechanical wind-up doll with a face carved into a permanent scowl. His powerful arms are crossed over his chest awkwardly as if he doesn't know what else to do with them. A black Fairy Tail emblem blazes against his bronze skin.

"Gajeel-kun!" she cries joyfully.

He spares her a single glance and grunts, "Mud Puddle."

That's about as much of a reaction as she'd dared to hope for.

There's a whole ordeal in explaining to Team Natsu why "that metal freak" is in _their guild, with their stamp_ , when he ATTACKED THEIR FREAKING TEAMMATES, YO! Juvia must have repeated, "I asked him to come!" about fifty times before they finally get the message and shut up.

They all turn to look at the Master.

He shrugs. "Juvia asked me to. You know what I told you, yesterday's enemy can be tomorrow's friend."

"I ain't ever makin' friends with this _punk_ ," Natsu yowls.

"Aye!"

"I'm all right with Juvia, but this is crossing the line! He destroyed our guild hall!"

"We should tear him down like any other enemy!"

"Just go back to whatever scrap heap you crawled out from, you _freak_."

Juvia realizes, that for all of their speeches about _nakama_ and _friendship_ and _forgiveness_ , these Fairies need to drop their holier-than-thou attitude and accept the fact that they are acting like childish, squabbling _bullies_ to a man who has done nothing but look at them for the last five minutes while being tremendously provoked.

She's just about to scream that _It was just a freaking building! How many buildings do you destroy every day, huh?_ when a small voice says nervously, "It's fine, guys. I mean, if I'm okay having him here, then you should be, too, right?"

Oh.

Destroying the Fairy Tail guild hall was not the only blow Gajeel dealt them. She'd forgotten about that three-mage team—Shadow Gear. Little Levy McGarden and her two best friends, Jet and Droy, adored by the media for being "the sweetest kids in Fiore." Gajeel, on the other hand is... _not so sweet._

The Iron Dragonslayer looks around to see who spoke, but can see no one.

"Down here," the voice squeaks.

He lowers his gaze way, _way_ down to see a little midget of a girl with blue hair, standing uncertainly with her hands clasped behind her back.

Juvia's surprised that _Levy_ , of all people, is willing to stand up for Gajeel, considering he beat the living shit out of her and her friends and crucified them against a tree, effectively hospitalizing them for a week. Jet and Droy both are ominously quiet.

Gajeel grunts.

The water mage's surprise increases even further. She never expected him to actually make a noise, but what he does next convinces her that _her_ Gajeel has been replaced with some sort of EVIL CLONE.

He replies.

WITH WORDS!

Even if those words are only, "Thanks, Shorty."

Levy grins and trips back to her seat.

Juvia's jaw drops to the ground, and she gives her old friend a very hard, _very calculating_ stare.

His eyes widen. _Don't even think about it, Water Witch! This ain't some lovey-dovey shit ya carry around in that crazy brain of yours._

Too late.

Devious plans are already half-formed, floating around in semisolid goo until she is ready to unleash them. But that can wait.

When the pandemonium in the guild dies down a little, she walks up to him and asks, "How have you been?"

"Fine. Hope you've been havin' fun ditchin' me."

She punches him lightly on the arm. "Juvia did not ditch you! She asked you to come with her, remember?"

"Like I wanna be stuck on the road with you all month."

"That is not Juvia's fault."

"Whatever."

Juvia tilts up her head to look at him; he's a good foot taller than her, and isn't helping by refusing to meet her eye. A new metal piercing shines a dull silver on his forearm. It looks good.

"Don't be like that," she says. "Juvia missed you."

His gaze hardens even further.

"Gajeel-kun, if you are angry with Juvia you can just tell her."

"No shit, Water Witch," he snaps.

Her hands shoot up in a gesture of peace. "Okay! Juvia gets it! But she knew that you would not listen to Juvia, so what else could she do? Send _Natsu_ to go bang down your door?"

"Didja hafta send the damn _guild master_ breathin' down my back?"

She shrugs. "It worked, didn't it?"

The Dragonslayer huffs.

"But...Juvia is very glad that Gajeel-kun is here with her."

Gajeel just kicks at the bar with his steel-studded boot and walks away, calling, "Just pick a damn job, okay?"

"Sure!"

The water mage smiles to herself, watching him stomp out the door with all the attitude of a pouty toddler. The job she selects from the board is fairly basic — to defeat a small dark guild terrorizing a small group of villages west of the Blue Mountains — but the reward, split two ways, would cover her rent for the month, and maybe begin to boost Gajeel's account balance into the positive number range.

There is someone she must see before she leaves.

Gray is sitting at a table with Natsu and Lucy (that terrible, Gray-stealing soul-sucking surgically enhanced demonic airheaded blonde _Love Rival Lucy_ ) , chomping on a cupcake. He's yelling at Natsu about something — probably about him being stupid — and there's pink frosting all over his face and he's wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with little snowmen on them.

To Juvia, he's never looked so beautiful.

As soon as he hears the _"Gray-sama!"_ , everything in Gray Fullbuster seems to deflate.

She pretends not to notice and keeps going.

"Juvia is going on her first job as a Fairy Tail wizard! She and Gajeel-kun may be gone for a couple days, but Juvia will think of you every single second she is gone! Would Gray-sama mind telling Juvia…." She pauses for a second to rifle around in her purse, eventually pulling out a Light Pen and notepad. "Juvia was thinking of gifts that Gray-sama might like. She has so far come up with….snow cones, ice skates, adventure movies, comics, action figures—"

("Oi! I don't play with action figures!" Gray lies.)

"—and she has noticed that you enjoy spending most of your time in your boxers, so she has ordered special underwear with Juvia's face on it, so you may think of her every time you strip! Is there anything else?"

"What? N-no! I mean...don't get me any of that stuff, all right?"

The water mage blinks. "But...Juvia thought that you would like it."

"Seriously," Gray insists, "don't get me anything. And how creepy is it that you know all my hobbies? Do you... _follow_ me?"

"Juvia is protecting you from danger at all times."

He groans. "You're crazy. Listen, I'm more than capable of protecting myself. Don't follow me. _Ever_."

"But then how will Juvia know you're safe?" she protests.

"Danger is part of being a guild wizard. People in Fairy Tail trust each other enough to believe that they can take care of themselves. You gotta learn that if you're going to fit in."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Gray flinches, but it's too late to take them back.

If his comment hurts Juvia, she shows no sign of it. She waves goodbye as she heads out the door, even if Gray is too absorbed with Natsu and Lucy to notice and wave back.

It's okay, right? He's just busy. He didn't mean it. He didn't _really_ say that Juvia didn't fit in. When he called her crazy, he must have meant...quirky. Quirky doesn't sound so bad.

Just like that, she justifies every word he said as one of kindness. Gajeel, however, will do no such thing.

"Dammit, Juvia, what the _hell_ was that?"

"Oh, well—"

"Ya vanish for four weeks without a fuckin' call and come back a Fairy and a mushy idiot?"

"That's not fair," she protests. "There's nothing wrong with being in love."

"Ya barely know the guy," he says, exasperated.

They slowly pick their way to the train station through the winding streets. It's almost funny, the way their reputations precede them. Children scream and run at the sight of Gajeel's pierced face while the adults mutter and slide back into the shadows. Even the boatmen stare.

"That's not true!" she insists. "Juvia knows he's kind, he's loyal, truly cares about all of his friends—"

"Doesn't give a flyin' fuck about you."

"So? He will, someday."

The Dragonslayer gives her a disgusted look. "Listen, crazy, those Fairies in there are total jokes compared to what we can do. You were one of Phantom's toughest, and you ain't about to go throwin' yourself at the first pretty boy with sparkly magic ya see." He waits for a second before adding as an afterthought, "Because this ain't Blue Pegasus."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. "Juvia is not throwing herself at Gray-sama. She is...expressing how she feels, that's all."

"How ya feel is pretty fuckin' scary. Remember the last time, with that dumbass flame dude in the shiny pants from Titan Nose?"

"Gray-sama is nothing like Bora-san," she objects. "And Juvia was never in love with Bora-san, either. He's like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out vulnerabilities, and Juvia was _careless_. She let hers show, and Bora-san took advantage of her."

"That dick fuckin' dumped ya and stranded ya in the middle of nowhere and made ya sleep on a bench. 'Takin' advantage' is sayin' it nicely. And I don't do _nice_."

"That was a pretty awful night," she admits.

"Still can't believe ya didn't just fuckin' call me."

"You were on a job."

He shrugged. "I coulda quit."

"But Master Jose would have had your head!"

"Who cares? I loved pissin' that guy off."

.

.

Translation from Gajeel-speak to English: 

_You're worth getting in trouble for._

 _._

 _._

She suddenly feels very fond of this cantankerous stud-faced boy.

"It's okay," she assures him. "Gray-sama would never abandon Juvia like that. He would at least take her home."

"If Stripper so much as freezes a drop of ya, he's scrap metal," Gajeel warns.

Her protective instincts flare up with a vengeance. "Don't you dare hurt him! Juvia will fight you to the death before your Iron Dragon Sword so much as touches him!"

Gajeel gives her a crooked grin. "Oh, yeah? You wanna go at it, raindrop? Think you can take on a Dragonslayer?"

"It's been a while," she says, eyes bright with challenge. "You know you can't win."

"I did last time."

"Just a fluke."

"Ya sure? We'll see. You and me. Tomorrow, noon, Magnolia park."

"Oh, you're on. Be prepared to drown in a sea of pain."

"You won't sound so cocky when you're swallowing steel."

"Ironhead."

"Fish bait."

"Fuckface."

"Merbitch."

Juvia doesn't laugh — she's a rain woman, and that's just not something she does — but the corners of her lips quirk up into an amused half-grin. Gajeel catches it and shakes his head.

"Damn, I didn't know ya had it in you."

"What?"

"To smile when I'm tellin' ya how bad you're gonna lose tomorrow."

"Juvia is... _happier_ now," she tells him. "She's not sure if it's the new guild or her blossoming love or the simple fact that she'll never have to face Master Jose again, but it's easier to be happy here than it was before, don't you think?"

"It's not raining."

Juvia nods.

"Don't think I didn't notice. Hard not to when you're usually dumpin' buckets on my head all the time."

Her eyes narrow into slits. "Tread carefully, Gajeel-kun. You may insult Juvia all you like if you win."

"Which I will."

"Remains to be seen," she says with an indefinable air of wisdom.

Gajeel is curiously silent.

Juvia shoots a surprised glance his way. "Gajeel-kun? Is something wrong?"

"Nothin'," he says uncomfortably. "It's just...I kinda liked the rain. It was _you_ , ya know? Without it you're... _fuck_ , I dunno, _less_ crazy drip-drop woman and more Fairy."

"And that is a bad thing?" she asks, amused.

"Didn't say that, but are ya already that much of a weepy, lame-ass pansy that ya hafta stop rainin' just to make 'em like you?"

.

.

Translation from Gajeel-speak to English: 

_I liked the person you used to be and I don't want you to change._

.

.

How sweet.

Juvia shrugs and nods, and at her command, the clouds above darken and swell, burgeoning with moisture. One by one, the raindrops fall. They are absorbed into her liquid body, but soak Gajeel's wild black mane, run down his copper skin, fall into his deep, devil-red eyes. The people around him curse and grapple for umbrella. Gajeel stands still in a sea of chaos, letting the cool, wet air mist his face and fix something deep inside he didn't even know was broken.

 _"Drip—drip—drip—"_ Juvia sings.

"I missed ya, raindrop," he says suddenly, and she's shocked because for once he is speaking a language that needs no translation, and it's so... _un-Gajeel_ of him to show emotion.

The dragonborn don't care for other people. They stand alone, independent, needing—wanting—no one. She knows it's a lie, even if Gajeel has never expressed it himself.

He needs. He cares.

He _misses_ her.

So she says nothing, but her fingers slip naturally into his like they were made to fit there, and she traces the hard lines of his palm through his fingerless gloves, and Gajeel just gets it. Because he just gets _her_.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

He nods. "Where I always do. Scrap shop on Clover."

"But...that's _two hours_ from the guild! And it doesn't even have a bed!" she objects. "Can you stay at an inn tonight? Tomorrow Juvia will ask the Master for permission to go on an S-class quest with you, earn enough jewel to rent a house."

"Tch. Won't work, raindrop. I'm flat broke and the banks are closed down 'cause of some stupid festival comin' up, so I can't cash the check we get today til' Monday."

Juvia looks crestfallen.

"It's okay," he insists. "Seriously. I ain't gonna die by walkin' a couple hours or sleepin' on a bed of iron. Good for a snack, anyways."

"Stay with Juvia tonight," she blurts out.

For the first time, the Dragonslayer wonders if his supersonic ears are damaged.

"Uh— _what?_ "

"It'll be fun," she chirps. "Come on, Gajeel-kun, Juvia has slept at your old house tons of times—if you call that box of metal a house."

He sighs wistfully. _Damn, I miss that box of metal. A home fit for an iron king._

"No dudes allowed in the girl dorms. Don't want those Fairies gettin' their panties in a twist by thinkin' we're gettin' dirty after hours," he taunts.

"It's—that's not what Juvia—for _heaven's sake_ —oh, shut up!" she sputters furiously.

He laughs, because Juvia looks absolutely crazy when she's riled up. She blushes so red her hair looks purple and stammers and stomps her feet like a little baby.

(Half the reason he makes her angry is just to see her feel something, but if you mention it he'll deny it—

—and then he will saw you into little pieces with his Iron Dragon Sword.)

"Juvia can sneak you in if you climb the tree and get in through the window," she says, already in full-on battle planning mode. "It'll be like a slumber party!"

"Damn, Juvia, you must be real desperate for my attention if ya hafta think of a whole fancy scheme just ta get me into your bedroom. Ya coulda just asked," he teases.

A bucket-load of _scalding_ hot water dumps on to his head.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"

"Forget about it," she snaps. "Starve and die—Juvia doesn't care." She—quite literally—storms off.

Gajeel sighs. _Ya damn psycho._

She went crazy on him again. Juvia was just like that. One moment they would be having a perfectly normal conversation and as fast as the tides change, she would be bawling or screaming or _boiling_ at him and then running away. Fuck him if he had a clue why.

He regards this whole situation as a verification of the very first lesson Metalicana taught him: _Stay the hell away from the crazy chicks._ And now he had to go and join a guild chock-full of 'em.

Gajeel thinks the Iron Dragon would be disappointed in him.

But Juvia is his best (only) friend, so he resigns himself to the very undignified but necessary task of chasing her down and…

(Ugh, does he _have_ to say it?)

Fine. Chasing her down and... _apologizing_.

The word tastes bitter in his mouth, like...pickled plums. Man, those things were gross.

He's panting by the time he catches up, because Juvia can run like some kind of super-speed rodent. "Juvia! Holy shit, woman, _wait_ , wouldja?"

"What?" she demands.

"Look, that was a dumbass thing to say," he manages in between labored breaths. "I ain't turnin' up my nose at an offer like that. Crashin' with you sounds good, if the option's still open."

Her big blue eyes are glaring in a way he's all too familiar with—this precise looks haunts the dreams of imprisoned dark wizards all over Fiore.

"Come on," he complains, "I said I'm sorry. I ain't gonna beg, raindrop, so either let me crash or I'll just go back to the usual."

She keeps on glaring.

"Even though your dorm sounds a hella lot better than the usual," he admits.

"You over-studded iron-headed lackwit," she mutters.

 _That's more like it._

"So…."

"So the following: You have to come early before most of the other girls get home, so maybe around five? Pick a movie, Juvia will cook, you take the right side of the bed, and if you eat more than your designated diet of five of Juvia's forks, she will turn you out onto the street and make it rain until you go to a watery grave. Understood?"

Gajeel smirks. "Ya know, raindrop, I think you're finally goin' back to normal."

She entwines her fingers with his own, and the walk hand in hand down the wet, deserted street, with raindrops falling in sheets from the sky.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Midnight. School tomorrow. Exhausted. Bromance. Unedited. SLEEP._**

 ** _That pretty much says it all._**


	7. Blue Buddies

The seventh Fairy is officially Juvia's soulmate.

Platonically.

With a girl.

And to be honest, she doesn't even know her that well.

But one fact is very, very clear about Levy McGarden: Her hair, wild, untameable force of nature that it is, is blue as the ocean deep. Blue as the summer sky. Blue as frost shimmering in the winter light, blue as sapphires, blue as bellflowers, blue as robin's eggs—

—blue as _Juvia._

The water mage, truly, is too touched to speak. Never, in her four years as a powerful guild wizard, traveling across the continents, had she _ever_ encountered another girl with blue hair. It has a rippling effect in her life, and Juvia knows that this is a moment that will irrevocably shape her future; this is the moment where she finds a friend, a _sister,_ a comrade who can finally sympathize with the fact that _nothing_ goes with blue except blue.

(And, if she plays her cards right, a lovely new girlfriend for a certain grumpy Dragonslayer.)

But then she finds out that _her_ Levy-chan is already Lucy Heartfilia's best friend, and that Lucy Heartfilia teases Levy about Gajeel, and that Lucy Heartfilia plays with Levy's _blue_ hair and talks about Levy's _blue_ hair and finds clothes that complement Levy's _blue_ hair, and Juvia glares at the spirit wizard like she's experimenting with telekinesis, trying to pop off the girl's head all the way across the room.

When that doesn't work, she tips Natsu's chili pepper slushie into Lucy Love Rival's glass of water, and waits patiently for her results.

.

.

"NATSU!"

"What did I do?"

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!"

"I _do?"_

"YOU'RE A MORON!"

"Okay."

"DRINK YOUR OWN DAMN SLUSHIE NEXT TIME."

"Okay."

"YOU THINK YOU'RE SO FUNNY, BUT YOU'RE A JERK!"

("Hey, Happy, I think Lucy's gone off the deep end again."

"Aye, sir.")

"I _heard_ that, IDIOT!"

"Kinda wanted you to."

"Oh, for the love of...I'm going _home._ DON'T BREAK INTO MY APARTMENT."

"But _Lucy,_ where else are we gonna work out?"

"I DON'T CARE."

"Happy, Lucy's being mean again."

"Aye, sir."

" _Shut up,_ you stupid cat!"

"Natsu, Lucy called me stupid."

"I know, little buddy. She's being mean."

"I'M NOT MEAN!"

"She's mean."

"UGH. I'M GOING HOME."

.

.

Yawn. "Hey, Happy, you wanna go work out at Lucy's place?"

"Aye, sir!"

"She might have food."

"I saw Lucy yesterday. She was buying _fish."_

"That's it. We're outta here."

.

.

" _What?_ The fuckin' Salamander left already? Fuck that. I'm gonna go see how that flame-brain likes the taste of _steel._ You comin', raindrop? Suit yourself. I got an idiot to beat up.

Hold my iron for me."

.

.

And _that,_ my friends, is how you kill three birds with one carefully placed spicy slushie.

.

.

With all potential threats neatly eliminated, Levy McGarden is all alone, quietly reading a book in a back table. This is precisely the right time for Juvia to strike. So she sidles closer, suavely, hands fiddling with her _blue_ hair and trying to make it as obvious as possible. (Juvia is not at all sure if this is the proper way to make new friends...

...but she most certainly cannot try to befriend Levy the same way she befriended _Gajeel._ For two reasons: one, Levy probably couldn't even _survive_ mortal combat with the water mage, and two: if Juvia challenged Levy to a duel, Gajeel might go a little ballistic trying to protect her.

He was so cute like that.)

The small girl's eyes dart suddenly up from the book and fix right on Juvia's face, looming mere inches from her own.

And she _screams._

Frowning, Juvia backs a way a little, and Levy breathes a sigh of relief when she can see who it is.

"Oh. You scared me, Ju-chan! What were you _doing?"_ She glances around the guild. "Hey. Where did everybody go?"

"Gajeel-kun, Natsu-san, and Lucy Love Rival all realized they had a pressing engagement," Juvia explains cheerfully. "It was a group sort of thing."

"And Gajeel didn't take _you_? Aren't you two attached at the hip?"

"Juvia and Gajeel-kun are very close," Juvia acquiesces, "but in this...particular activity, he did not require Juvia's assistance. So...you have been keeping an _eye_ on Gajeel-kun? Enough to know who he spends his time with?" She nudges the script mage suggestively.

Levy blinks. "Keep an eye on him? Perhaps. Oh, no—I didn't mean to get between the two of you! I think you make an adorable couple!"

Had it been anyone else, Juvia would have been _furious._ Forcibly-ejecting-them-from-planet-Earth-while-serenading-Gray-sama's-beauty level _furious._ And a little surprised, too, because she was unaware there was still anyone left on the continent who _hadn't_ heard of her obsession with Fairy Tail's broody ice mage. The signals she emitted— _love waves,_ as she referred to them—had been broadcast in newspapers, magazines, news lacrimas, and any suchlike method of communication—until soon enough the name _Juvia Lockser_ became interchangeable with _Gray Fullbuster's_ _stalker._

Which suits Juvia's needs perfectly, as now most women are too terrified of her to even go near her Gray-sama.

But Juvia likes Levy, and it's an easy mistake to make—even the Rain Woman must admit that sometimes the way she interacts with Gajeel gives off the wrong impression—so she decides, just this once, to be lenient with the smaller girl. Show mercy. Clemency.

Forgiveness.

All those things Phantom Lord never taught her, she is trying to learn now.

"Juvia is not in love with Gajeel-kun, Levy-san. Gajeel-kun is not in love with Juvia. Gajeel-kun...he is one of Juvia's own. Special to her. Juvia cannot quite think of the right word—?"

"A kindred spirit?" suggests Levy, who is very, _very_ knowledgeable with words.

Juvia nods. "Exactly. Juvia does love him, but not like _that."_ Suddenly her expression becomes very sly. "But Gajeel-kun _is_ quite handsome, in his own way, and Juvia would be happy to...arrange an introduction."

Levy turns scarlet. "What? _No!_ No, thank you very much, Ju-chan, but that won't be necessary, not in the slightest, _ever._ I am _not_ interested in Gajeel."

"Why not?"

"Why— _not?"_ she gapes. For once all of those lovely words she knows completely escape her, and she can barely remember how to say her own name. "Er...nothing against Gajeel, but...he's not really my..."

"Type? But Gajeel-kun is _also_ very gifted with words. He is a most talented musician and lyricist," Juvia says solemnly.

Trying her hardest to be polite, Levy is silent— _if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all._

If Juvia notices, she doesn't remark on it. "And Gajeel-kun likes fluffy animals, and he collects rare metal action figures, and sometimes when Juvia cannot sleep he sings her a lullaby that he wrote for Juvia. Gajeel-kun likes sweets very much as well. Lots of sweets. He and Juvia go to Scoops every Sunday, and he orders mountains of Bubble Princess Fantastically Pink Frozen Yogurt."

 _Bubble Princess? Fantastically...pink?_

Is she really talking about _Gajeel?_

The funny thing is...Bubble Princess is Levy's favorite Scoops flavor as well.

Juvia chatters on, advertising Gajeel like she is trying to market a product, and Levy finds herself learning more about the Iron Dragonslayer than she ever dreamed of knowing.

 _Gajeel-kun is scared of frogs._

 _Gajeel-kun is hopeless around crying girls._

 _Gajeel-kun had a pet shark in Phantom Lord, and he named it Phineas._

 _Gajeel-kun buys Juvia a new sea creature charm for her bracelet every year on her birthday._

 _Gajeel-kun knows how to square dance._

 _Gajeel-kun once hid behind Juvia because a pretty girl was staring at him._

 _Juvia thinks Gajeel-kun might have a minor man-crush on Natsu-san._

There's no end to them, these ridiculous _Gajeel-kun_ anecdotes, and somewhere between Gajeel shopping for Christmas stockings and Gajeel nearly biting off a man's finger in an attempt to eat his iron ring, Levy starts to laugh—hysterically. She's laughing because she is supposed to be so _smart,_ and she _never_ would have guessed that this is the man who brutalized and bloodied her two dearest friends, never would have thought that someone so terrifying could have a soft heart beneath all of those iron scales.

She's laughing because Gajeel is _funny._ And she never would have known this, had it not been for this girl. She might have continued to fear a man who made a mistake for the rest of her life, and never have seen past his mask to realize that his heavily-armored ego was all a sham, and that he may have been raised a dragon boy, but a part of him, no matter how small, is undeniably _human._

So Levy forgives him. If he makes Juvia this happy, then the shy, animal-loving, doting best friend version of him would always be welcome in her guild.

Seeing the softening of Levy's eyes, Juvia smiles.

(This is exactly what she wanted.)

.

.

"Hey, Ju-chan, I just realized—you're the only other person I've met who has blue hair like I do."

"JUVIA LOVES YOU, LEVY-SAN!"

"Wha—oof! Oh, dear...it's all right. Go on and hug it out. There, there. I love you, too, Ju-chan."

"LEVY-SAN IS JUVIA'S KINDRED SPIRIT!"

"I think so, too, only—Ju-chan, could you loosen your grip a little? I'm having— _hic_ —some trouble— _breathing_ —"

 _"_ JUVIA IS NEVER LETTING LEVY-SAN GO!"

"But—excuse me, but I really have to go to the bathroom—oh, Ju-chan, there's no need to cry! I...I can hold it!"

"LEVY-SAN...sniff...WANTS TO LEAVE JUVIA!"

"N-no! It's fine, Juvia, truly, I'll stay here with you! Oh, please don't cry. Gajeel doesn't like it when you cry, remember?"

"LEVY-SAN...DOES NOT LOVE GAJEEL-KUN..."

"I-I don't even know him that well! It's no reason to cry, really...oh, no, I'll get you a tissue, there's no need to wipe your nose on my shirt!"

"Juvia...( _sniff, sniff)..._ only wants Gajeel-kun to find love like Juvia has!"

"It's okay. I'm sure Gajeel will find love one day."

"And Juvia wants Levy-san to find love, too, because...Levy-san's hair is _blue,_ and Juvia loves Levy-san and Gajeel-kun...BUT WHY DON'T THEY LOVE EACH OTHER?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake...Juvia! I...do like Gajeel, all right? Gajeel is great! Gajeel is wonderful!"

Juvia stops crying.

"Levy-san... _likes_ Gajeel-kun?" she sniffles.

"Yes," Levy says quickly. "I'm sure we'll be great friends."

"But Levy-san does not _love_ Gajeel-kun?" Juvia looks heartbroken.

Levy softens. "Ju-chan, not everyone falls in love right away. Whoever you fell in love with—"

"JUVIA LOVES GRAY-SAMA."

"Well, Gray is very lucky, then. But Gajeel and I...it will take _time,_ to get used to him, and...I think that friends is a good place to start, okay?"

The water mage swipes at her nose with her sleeve and nods tearfully. "Juvia supposes...that makes sense. Gajeel-kun needs more friends."

"Then it's settled. I'll try to be Gajeel's friend," she promises.

And Juvia knows she means it.

"And Levy-san...will also be _Juvia's_ friend?" she asks, hopefully.

Levy laughs. "Of course we're friends, Ju-chan. Bluenettes have to stick together, you know."

A smile flashes across Juvia's face, and when she reaches out to hug Levy, it's gentle this time. Warm. _Friendly. O_ nce again the water mage realizes that she has truly found a place she can always call home, and people she can always, _always_ call family.

Wait.

There is one more thing she needs to verify before she proceeds with this friendship.

Juvia, fixing Levy under a sharp, suspicious glare, asks, "If you refuse to love Gajeel-kun, does that mean you are in love—with _Gray-sama?"_

"Ew," Levy says, wrinkling her nose. "I've known him since we were kids. He's like a little brother. The thought is... _gross."_

And Juvia is satisfied that she has found the second best friend in the entire world.

 _Suck it, Lucy Love Rival._

* * *

 **A/N: _Oh, Juvia...you make one hell of a wingwoman._**

 ** _P.S If there's any Fairy Tail member specifically you want me to write about, lemme know who, and what they and Juvia should do! (Minus the Thunder Legion. They're already reserved.)_**


	8. Stitchings

The eighth Fairy she meets is a girl made to be sewn.

Juvia's lip trapped firmly between her teeth, she loops her thread through the head of the needle, takes a deep breath, and begins to stitch Mira's face in neat, even lines. Spools of white thread heap together in messy piles beside her; there's so much _white_ in the banner she's making: white hair, white skin, whites of her eyes interrupted by impossibly bright blue—so bright that she carefully twines crystal fibers to capture their shimmer, but somehow it always falls short. She gives up on the eye shine. Takes little silver coins instead, freshly minted, and softens them with her hot water magic until they practically melt into the blue of the tapestry, glowing and perfect in the stitched girl's wintry eyes.

It's nearly completed now.

Mira swings by with a platter full of empty drinks. Her hair is down. Her eyes shine like twin coins. She takes one glance at the embroidery and a bottle breaks with a _snap_.

Juvia looks up.

"Is that... _me?_ " Mira asks.

She nods.

"It's beautiful."

She acknowledges the compliment with another nod and a blush.

"Juvia, what is it for?"

A smile spreads slowly, from cheek to cheek, and she shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.

"Okay," Mira says. "Okay, I see. You're not done.—Do you want a drink?"

"Some cider, please," she requests politely, and Mirajane vanishes into the kitchen, casting a bemused look behind her at the girl bent over her stitching.

.

.

.

The embroidered portrait is set against a background of black, rimmed with white, rimmed with the purple-green of barely faded bruises; these colors don't mesh, and their dissonance is almost pointed, meant to clash with the image of the beautiful girl shining in all of the chaos. She takes up exactly one-third of the available space, from the left side to the center. Juvia measures out a another third from the right side to the center.

She begins a new face.

Contrasting with Mirajane's delicate face and wispy hair, this one is rougher. Broader. Even lines and gentle strokes will have to be put away for now. White spools of thread are packed away into her sewing case, and she unwinds lengths of coffee brown and black. Juvia scars this face from the tip of his brow to the lower corner of his eye, and spikes his hair upwards until it looks like a grove of icicles took root in his sun-tanned skin.

.

.

.

Mira sighs in the kitchen when she realizes that they don't even _serve_ cider. She disappears to the back of the guild and plucks several red, ripe apples from their orchard, slips them into the juicer lacrima, and waits, thinking about her face on that tapestry all the while.

A timer dings. She decants the cider from the juicer to a glass. Then, magenta skirts swinging, she slips through the kitchen door back into the guild hall to see Juvia in the exact same position as before: lip bitten hard, brow furrowed, back hunched like Quasimodo over Mira's portrait—like it's a guarded secret. Another face stares out from her tapestry now—it's a man's this time, and Mira recognizes those midnight eyes, and especially that scar.

" _Elfman?"_

Juvia looks up again with surprise. "Mirajane-san."

"Oh, Juvia...me and Elfman? It's lovely."

"It is still incomplete," Juvia says, "and imperfect." She takes the cider from the tray. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can get you?" Mira says. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"Juvia has not."

"Well, let me cook you something. Your favorite."

"Borscht?" Juvia brightens.

"And coffee cake."

"Oh, Mirajane-san, you should not have gone through the trouble—" the bluenette protests...

...but Mira just smiles at her, and Juvia has the irrational thought that _this girl_ _must dine on stars, because the light gets caught in her teeth, and shines from her mouth..._

but that doesn't make sense, and she must be getting a little delirious from hard work and hunger; shaking her head to clear it, her protest dies in her throat.

"It's no trouble," Mira assures her. "No trouble at all." She stops a moment, seeming to consider something, and adds, "Is...there going to be someone else on your tapestry? It looks like you left room. Is it for your face? Hm...Erza's? Gray's?"

That smile appears again, sphinxlike—and that's the only answer she's going to give.

Impulsively, Mira pats the younger girl on the head like she's a small child—Juvia's smile widens—and in her quick, efficient way, the snowy white girl is gone, to the pantry to dice her beets. Juvia finishes the final stitch on Elfman's face.

.

.

.

Flanked by two angels in shining white, the blank spot in the middle looks like an ugly black hole to Juvia. Glaringly incomplete. When she tries to stitch over it, her needle sinks into the material like it's really being sucked down by the gap. Her stitches melt away into the black background.

Juvia's eyes grow hard. She fetches a stronger needle—an iron one, a birthday present from Gajeel. Snowfalls of hair fight off the inky darkness of the backdrop, and slowly, stitch by stitch, the third face appears.

It's a lot like Mira's. The white threads make a reappearance, overjoyed to be back after their dismissal, and once again they coat _everything_ —short, white hair, paper-pale skin, white lashes, pale lips—except the eyes, _again:_ the eyes are a laughing blue like the summer sky, and this time Juvia uses crystallized raindrops to add their sparkle instead of silver coins. The face has a place of honor in the center third, between Elfman's rough scowl and Mira's dazzling grin.

This paler, smaller girl's lips twist into a sad half-smile, and she's looking not forward, but at each of her companions, tenderness in those pretty eyes.

The fragrance of Mira's cooking wafts from the kitchen and the white Fairy is there, smiling, holding a bowl of piping hot soup in one hand and a slice of coffee cake in the other, beginning to say, "I'm afraid we ran out of soup spoons, but I really hope you enjoy—"

And then the food crashes on to the bar table. Soup sloshes over the side of the bowl and tinges the edges of the tapestry a violent red.

Mira shakes.

.

.

.

"It looks exactly like her."

"Juvia knows."

"No, Juvia...it looks _exactly_ like her."

"..."

"She looks so beautiful in stitching. Especially her eyes. Her eyes look beautiful."

"Juvia is glad you think so."

"Did—did I get borscht on her face?"

"No. It's only on the very edge. Nearly impossible to see because the border is so dark."

"Oh. Okay. Good. I'm...going to clean up this mess. I'm sorry."

"Mira-san—"

"I'm sorry," she repeats. She leaves.

Juvia carefully wets a napkin using her water magic, and cleans the borscht off of the hair of the girl in the center, the girl that looks like Mira, before Mira can notice. She doesn't want her picture to look like it's stained with blood. The three faces are finally complete, perfect renderings of her models, but the girl in the center is the most beautiful of them all.

Mirajane comes back with a dustpan and broom. She sweeps the shards of broken china into the pan and disposes of them. Juvia washes away any traces of spilt food with her water. The coffee cake is still untouched, so she places it to the side, not in the mood to eat right then, but Mira's coffee cake is so delicious it would be a pity to throw it away. Many people come up, asking if something is wrong, but the takeover mage's bright smile resurfaces and she brushes them away with the wave of her dishrag and an, "I'm fine. Me and my two left feet, always breaking things."

No one notices Juvia's tapestry, now rolled up and tucked into her bag.

Gently, Mira takes it out and smooths it, running her fingers along the face of the girl in the middle. "You...it looks _so much_ like her," she repeats.

"Juvia meant for you to have it," the bluenette says quietly.

Mira nods, half-listening, eyes locked with the tapestry girl's but still so far away. "Yes. It's lovely, thank you."

"Mira-san?"

"How did you _do_ this, Juvia? How did you know what she looks like? Or how she smiles? Or her eyes...I don't understand how you knew that her eyes always shone like this whenever she was teasing Elfman or playing with my hair—"

"Sol," Juvia interrupts.

"What?" Mirajane says, stupidly.

"Sol...Sol of the Earth? He...he saw _her,_ when he manipulated Elfman-san's memories during their battle—do you remember?"

Bouncing. Monocles. Elfman screaming, the feeling of being trapped, a man in a green suit squealing, " _You killed her, you killed her..."_

"I remember well."

The water mage shifts uncomfortably. "Well, Juvia ran into Sol of the Earth, two days ago, and he...wanted Juvia to deliver a message for him. He says he is sorry, to Elfman-san and Mirajane-san, he is sorry for hurting them. And that made Juvia think that... _she_ has never said sorry to all the people she has hurt. To Lucy Love Rival, to Gray-sama, to Master and Levy-san and many others, yes—but not to _you."_

"But when did you hurt me, Juvia?" Mira asks gently.

She sighs. "Juvia has hurt _everyone_ in this guild. More so than Jose, more so than Gajeel-kun. The Jupiter cannon derives over a quarter of it's power from _Juvia._ It is _Juvia's_ power that nearly killed Erza-san, that trapped you in the cannon and nearly crushed you, and she was combining her power with Sol of the Earth, when he was trying to hurt Elfman-san with the memories of your sister, and...many others Juvia has hurt. _Many_ others."

 _Why can't Mirajane speak?_

"But Juvia wants to make amends, and she wants you to know that she—that _I'm_ _sorry,_ Mira-san. I'm so sorry." She holds out the tapestry, a hopeful light in her navy blue eyes. "I know that Sol and I tarnished the memory of someone you loved dearly, tortured another you loved, and I know that is unforgivable—a silly stitching can't make up for all that pain, and yet...Sol shared with Juvia what he gleaned of _her_ from Elfman-san's memories. Not everything—just enough for Juvia to stitch _her_ face, next to yours..."

"You did it perfectly," Mira cuts in, voice whisper-soft.

"Thank you, Mira-san. Will you accept Juvia's tapestry as part of a debt she will never repay?"

.

.

.

"C'mere," Mira says, and she wraps the girl in a hug, and both of them are crying, but not really sure why—a drop of Juvia's tears fall on Mira's lips and she realizes with a start that her tears are _fresh,_ drinkable, even—and the guild shoots a curious glance their way, but crying girls aren't a novelty around those parts, with Loke the womanizer and Lucy the drama queen, and Juvia cries whenever Gray is gone, and Mira cries whenever someone else is crying—

(—and Happy starts crying above them because he can't find his fish—

—and Gray tears up a little because he's worried that once again he made Mira cry—)

—and Mira starts whispering Lisanna's name into Juvia's messy clumps of blue hair, and confesses, for the first time in a year, that she still missed her little sister to the point of pain; she admits that her smile does not come as easy as everyone thinks; she admits that she hadn't looked at Lissana's face since she had died, and _how could I have almost forgotten what she looked like, Juvia? How could I?_

"You could never really forget her," Juvia promises. "She'll always be in your heart. Just like Juvia's parents."

"Your parents?"

"Juvia was too young to remember their faces, but...I remember I loved them. I still do."

"I still love Lisanna, too," Mira says, a sad smile on her face.

Juvia smiles back.

Mira reaches away to pluck the tapestry from Juvia's hands and unroll it, tracing the lines of Elfman's scar, of Lisanna's summer-blue eyes, of her own gossamer hair. "I'll hang it above my bed," she decides. "And I'll look at it every day, so that...that I'll never forget her face again, and I'll _never_ forget how much I love her."

"Juvia is very glad," she says softly.

" _Thank you,_ Juvia."

"Juvia is _very_ glad."

.

.

.

Mira takes Juvia to the little apartment she shares with Elfman, and she hangs the tapestry above her bed—the bed she moves into Lisanna's old room—and they look at the three faces of the Strauss siblings together, bright white against the ugly, dissonant background—and Mira smiles, just a little, but it's not sunny, or happy, or bright...

She wakes up, tomorrow, with Juvia snoring on the floor beside the bed, and looks up to see her sister's face shining in the pale sunlight. She looks lovely. Chiding Elfman for his grumpy scowl. Asking Mira to stop fighting with Erza so much.

She's thanking Juvia for making sure she is never forgotten.

.

.


	9. The Donkey Wars

The ninth Fairy and Juvia don't exactly get along at first.

Okay, she'll admit it, because it's impossible to deny: Bisca Moulan is really, _really_ freaking weird.

She rides a donkey to the guild in the morning—yeah, a real, pooping, neighing, smells-like-rotten-hay-and-fleas giant donkey, in the middle of the city streets—and the donkey wears a cowboy hat, and the donkey's name is Chancho, and that donkey _hates_ Juvia.

Juvia wonders if maybe in her past life she was an evil cowherd or something, and Chancho's cruel pranks are karma, but she's not the type to believe in that kind of thing. The damn donkey isn't giving her much choice in the matter. And even if it's true, no matter _what_ she did in a past life, no matter her current sins, her present need for atonement, she did _not_ deserve...this.

Chancho's donkey shit is _haunting_ her.

It's in her shoes. In her apartment. She once reached for her sip of hot chocolate to discover that it...wasn't chocolate. She doesn't know how that damn beast did it, but she tried filing a report with the magic council to have it arrested, and _how dare they say that donkeys couldn't have any malicious intentions that pose a threat to her safety?_

As if ingesting the excrement of another animal isn't a _safety_ _risk._

She talked to the Master, who ordered Bisca to stop bringing Chancho to the guild—but she swears, that donkey had _potty magic,_ because the shit just kept coming. It was a never ending flow. A curse. To escape the rain only to be trapped and followed by— _this._

Excrement on the faces of her Gray-sama dolls are the last straw. Juvia declares _war._

.

.

.

War has begun.

Bisca takes position behind the rear end of the guild, guns notched and ready. She doesn't know what type of magic Juvia uses; she in fact doesn't know Juvia at all, except that Chancho seemed to hate the bluenette, and Chancho had always been an excellent judge of character.

She can't explain why the donkey was particularly... _spiteful_ towards Juvia. But there has to be a reason. And any woman who comes between Bisca and her animals must prepare to face the consequences.

Juvia's face appears, and Bisca takes aim—perfect aim, as usual—and she shoots.

Right on target.

.

.

.

Juvia smiles as a bullet ripples through her; it actually feels kind of _nice._ The bullet is a magical one, changing shape into a shard of ice, and the feel of it lancing through her eyes reminds her of Gray-sama, and the way his love has pierced her. It's a good metaphor for their romance, she thinks, and makes a note of it to add it to the autobiography she was working on (titled _Water and Ice: An Epic Saga of Loss and Love)._

Bisca frowns. She'd hoped for a better reaction than that.

The bullet goes Juvia to hit Natsu, who punches Gray in the face just for the sake of punching Gray in the face, who punches _Lucy_ in the face while trying to punch Natsu back, which makes Juvia very happy ("See? Juvia knew Gray-sama would turn on Lucy Love Rival in the end.") He apologizes to Lucy, of course, but Love Rival's face is gloriously swollen for _days._

A week later, when Lucy still looks puffy and red and grouchy, Juvia takes Bisca—and Chancho—out for a celebratory thank-you lunch, to bury the hatchet.

And things happen.

.

.

.

On a restaurant, on a hill, in a land far, far away, the staff of _The Water Dragon_ is facing the apocalypse.

The diner is ironically named in honor their harbinger of doom—back then known as the Phantom Lord hero who saved them from a robbery—and she was promised free meals for herself and any guests, effective for life. Even when she joined Fairy Tail, the offer still stood, because the manager always thought that Juvia was the calmer sort. Not like the rest of the guild with their penchant for total obliteration. She was _mature._ Here, at last, was a Fairy that could be managed.

That _manageable_ Fairy is drowning his restaurant. Her friend is shooting the silverware and screaming, "ZACKY, WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?" A donkey is chewing holes in the building's walls and shitting all over his rugs.

He shakes his head and sighs. It's his own fault, anyway.

(Who's ever heard of a Fairy who _hasn't_ destroyed anything?)

.

.

.

"J-Juvia tries _so hard_ —she...she joined Fairy Tail for _him_ and he doesn't even notice her...when she— _hic_ —hugs Gray-sama he always says, 'Let go of me Juvia,' and...Juvia _can't_ let go of Gray-sama, or else Lucy Love Rival will snatch him away and...Juvia asked Gray-sama if he's romantically interested in her just a _little_ and—he said— _he said..."_

"Alzack doesn't love me, after all this time, after _all_ the hints I've sent him—I sent him a _love note,_ Juvia, only I didn't have the guts to sign it...a-and I wore my super sexy holster on my thigh, and I brought my twin rifles because I think I look _hot_ when I'm carrying two guns, and I wore those little cowgirl earrings he got me for my birthday, a-and...I leaned over and was like, 'Hey, did you get any thing special in the mail?' and—he said— _he said_ —"

"HEE-HAW—"

"What did he say, ma'am?" a waiter asked politely.

"He said...NOT PARTICULARLY!" they both burst out at the same time, and that is when the sobbing begins.

Water starts to pool at the base of the tables. Waiters frantically toss fistfuls of tissues at the two women. The roof creaks and groans from the force of millions of raindrops pounding on its surface.

The apocalypse has begun.

.

.

.

All staff of the _Water Dragon_ take the first step: they secure themselves in an underground bunker.

In this case, the cellar of their restaurant, where they keep the spare supplies. Fifty chefs, attendants, and waiters huddle behind sacks of semi-rotten sacks of potatoes, holding their breath and praying, _praying_ for salvation. The manager isn't particularly religious, but for the first time he truly _believes_ —whether it's in a devil who is punishing him for a sins, or in a benevolent god who is going to show them mercy, he isn't sure—but he believes in _something._

(A part of him believes in doom.)

Bullets whistle past his ear in rapid succession (is the green-haired woman _shooting at the floor?)_ but luckily they embed themselves into the barrels of stale wine in front of him—he makes a note to thank that other Fairy, the drunk one, for ordering so much alcohol in bulk. Her addiction just possibly saved his life.

The waiters are frantically trying to contact the military. By the time they arrive, there is nothing left.

.

.

.

The military see this:

A demolished restaurant, many people in matching uniforms cowering in a giant hole in the ground, lots of water, a green-haired monster holding two guns—

—and one dead donkey. A bluenette grins smugly nearby, holding a bowl of wasabi in each hand. She plants one foot on the donkey's body and spits, proudly, into it's rolling, dead eyes.

"Juvia has won the war," the bluenette cries.

The green-haired monster breaks down in sobs, and the bluenette's face softens a little. "Bisca-san."

 _"You killed Chancho."_

"Bisca-san?"

"You _killed_ him, and all he did was shit all over your stuff and try to kill you, but he didn't deserve to _die,_ he was a good donkey—"

"Bisca-san, wait a moment—"

"His birthday was next month, and he was only twenty three, it's too soon for him to go—!"

"BISCA-SAN! LISTEN!"

The green-haired monster goes silent.

"Chancho-kun is not dead."

"H-he's not?"

"No," the bluenette, Juvia, says. "Chancho-kun is not dead, though Juvia _should_ have killed him, because all is fair in Gray-sama love and war, but Juvia knows that Bisca-san loves this demon—why, she'll never know—so, as a _favor,_ she has spared his life."

The military men blink. The donkey _certainly_ looks dead to them.

"W-what—what do you mean, Juvia?" says the green-haired monster.

"Chancho-kun," she explains, "has been _purged."_ She gestures to the bowls of wasabi she is gripping. "Honestly, did Bisca-san not know that her donkey was suffering from extreme _intestinal issues?"_

"NO!" Bisca cries.

"YES!" Juvia says.

"But...how...?"

"Chancho-kun could not help excreting all over the place. The only reason it always seemed to show up in Juvia's belongings is that Chancho-kun constantly wanted to spend time with Juvia. You see, Juvia has got it all figured it out. Chancho-kun does _not_ hate Juvia."

"He doesn't?" Bisca says numbly.

"No. Chancho-kun... _loves_ Juvia."

.

.

.

"NO!"

"YES! He follows Juvia like Juvia follows Gray-sama. That's why Juvia always finds herself surrounded by his... _you-know-what_. Perhaps he considers leaving such... _gifts_ as a token of his affection, but the truth is Chancho-kun is very, very sick. Which is why Juvia lured him here. He must be purged."

"Purged?" Bisca says. "And how _exactly_ did you...purge him?"

Juvia points to the wasabi.

(The military men's jaws drop seven feet underground.)

"Spicy food is known to irritate the bowels," Juvia says proudly, "so Juvia has brought Chancho-kun to a Japanese restaurant and has stuffed him _silly_ with wasabi! It should purge all of the nasty stuff out of his intestines. In fact, he should be ready to explode," she checks her watch, "hm...any second now."

Chancho explodes a second later. What's left of the restaurant detonates. The restaurant manager sighs.

.

.

.

Standing among the ruins of the ruins, covered from head to toe in flaming donkey shit, Bisca and Juvia smile at each other. A very tired, but healthy Chancho knickers in the rubble nearby.

"You won the war," Bisca agrees. Juvia laughs.

"Juvia has won the war."

"Hey, you want to go have a _real_ celebratory smoothie back at the guild's bar? Mira makes great Wild West Caramel Milkshakes. They're Chancho's favorite."

Juvia makes a face. "Bisca-san feeds Chancho-kun milkshakes? No wonder his digestive system is a mess."

"Fine, then. We leave Chancho at home. Just you and me? We can finish up that conversation we were having about Gray and Alzack and all our romantic problems."

("Hah. Conversation. More like Doomsday," one of the waiters mutter.)

"Juvia would like that," the water mage says.

"Okay, then."

They leave the crime scene like true wild cowgirls, on the back of their loyal steed.

Chancho grins.

* * *

 _A/N: Just—just don't ask. There...are no words._

 _EDIT: Thank you so much to the person who pointed out it accidentally was copied twice, it must have glitched or something, sorry! Fixed it._


	10. Freed

Juvia technically meets Freed for the first time when he traps her in his rune square, and he calls her filthy names...

But she doesn't really want to talk about that time.

It's not that it surprised her, exactly. She was prepared to take a few blows about her Phantom past. _Waiting_ for it, even, except that her defenses were down at that moment because she was too busy hunting Laxus, too involved with the battle, to think of herself as an outsider anymore. It was called The Battle of Fairy Tail: she was fighting in it. A soldier part of the cause. Simple.

So when she thinks of Freed, she tries not to remember him like that. Instead she remembers him like this:

He looks at her as he bows, with his hair knotted as his neck. Intimate in a way that's near vulgar, she can see the exposed back of his white throat, and the sweat that runs into his tunic—points where she could cut him very easily. She's so busy thinking about this that she jumps a little when he actually hands her a sword.

"Cut it off," Freed says. "Please. As repentance. Later it will be presented it to the Master, but I think you should cut it. That way it has...resonance." He guides the hand gripping the sword to his neck, but closes his eyes tightly before delivering the stroke. "Just, only, well, you'll do it quickly, right? Trust me, I'm not relishing this." He sighs.

"Freed-san."

"Yes, Juvia, I know that it's rather firmly attached and you're going to need a good swing, and it's definitely not going to be pretty afterwards, but I trust that you've seen more unpleasant sights in your life than a—"

"Freed-san," Juvia repeats, timid. It's just that Freed is very tall and grand up close, like a museum, or an elegant library. She hardly dares to interrupt him, or look at him in his vulnerable position. "Are you _sure_ you want Juvia to do this thing? She has very little experience, um...cutting off people's...Well, there was that one time, but Juvia did a really crude job..."

"Juvia," he says, by this time straining to keep his head level, "It's really not that complicated. You whack it. It falls. We sweep it up and dispose of it, and then present my penance to my betrayed comrades. It's all _rituals,_ see? Rituals of apology, and hopefully of forgiveness. This is the way things are done, through sacrifices, in order to give apologies proper meaning...is that all now clear?"

Uncertain, Juvia lowers the sword. "Yes, and that's all very deep and meaningful, but...aren't there, um, _cleaner_ ways of apologizing? Like...flowers! Who doesn't like flowers, right? Teddy bears. Fluffy sweaters. Cupcakes. Juvia would honestly _much_ prefer cupcakes." She gives him a pleading look.

Freed's returning look clearly communicates that there, sadly, will be no cupcakes in Juvia's future.

"Just do it, please. I'm trying to do the honorable thing."

"O— _kay,"_ she says cautiously. "If Juvia has no choice. Just—one clean stroke?"

"Yeah," he says. "Quick and keen."

"All right, then—though Juvia warns, she was never very good at lopping off people's heads—"

Freed's eyes snap open. "Lopping of people's—? Oh dear—wait a second, Juvia, stop, there's been a terrible misunderstanding and I don't want you to cut off my head— _no wait don't swing that sword HANG ON FOR A MOME_ —"

Something hits the ground with a soft thud.

To Freed's great relief, it's _not_ his head rolling away from his body, like he thought it was: but only his sword slipping from Juvia's hands at the last moment, landing on the carpet. It lies there innocently, as if it wasn't the intended instrument of his decapitation, as if it only meant to cut his hair—and _only his hair_ —as he wanted, the entire time.

Once clarified, the whole situation seems much less strange to Juvia.

She does feel a _little_ bad about almost killing him, even on accident. So she rubs his back and (quite kindly, in her opinion) offers to cut off his hair _properly_ , like he wanted her to, and make a most sincere effort to avoid taking off his head.

Understandably, Freed declines.

But he does cut off his own long, beautiful knot of hair, and he does offer it to her on his knees. She takes it. Of course. It's all like a story being read to a child: the courtly knight, the token, the sword...Freed is something old-fashioned, straight out of a fairy tail.

And, elegantly, that is the memory that stays.


End file.
